


Secrets in the Chamber

by lea_anberlyn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, M/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:59:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_anberlyn/pseuds/lea_anberlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his 8th Year Harry decides to fix Hogwarts by destroying it. Before that though he’ll have to fix Draco Malfoy, who’s become a shadow of his old self and is sleeping in the Chamber of Secrets...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One – Harry’s Plan

“Harry, we’re worried about you.” The words were said gently but Harry still grimaced.

Lifting his head from the parchment in front of him Harry regarded his friends silently. Hermione had the decency to look down, a slight blush covering her cheeks but Ron stared him straight in the eyes, his chin tilting up defiantly.

“You have to know mate but recently you’ve just been…well, _weird_.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow in response but kept quiet. Things were getting pretty amusing after all.

“Oh Harry!” Hermione finally burst out, “You know we love you, and we’ll support anything you want to do but…do you really want to destroy a part of Hogwarts?”

 _Ah_. So that was what this was all about. Putting his quill down for a moment Harry crossed his hands in front of himself and turned to each of his friends in turn, trying to make his face look as serious as he felt. He could still feel the corner of his lip twitching just ever so slightly but other than that he thought he did pretty well.

“Why wouldn’t I want to?” He countered, watching as Hermione’s brows furrowed.

“But you love Hogwarts Harry,” she finally said after a moments silence, Ron nodding his head next to her.

“Yeah,” he added, “You’ve always called this place your first home. So why do you want to destroy your home?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to destroy all of Hogwarts,” he stressed. “Just…parts of it. The parts that are…” He looked around, his eyes settling on the figure by the window. Dennis Creevey was curled up there, a small figure with such a heavy cloud of sadness around that he seemed weighed down by it all. Harry felt his heart ache just looking at him and let his eyes drift back to his friends again.

They both looked more understanding now and they looked at him sympathetically.

Harry bristled. He didn’t want their sympathy – he didn’t need it. They should save it to give to the Hogwarts students who did need it, the ones who every day had to know that their sister, or brother, or cousin had died _there_ , or been crushed by _that_ pillar or laid out in the Great Hall amongst all the other’s who had died to save them.

It wasn’t fair.

Hermione laid a hand on his arm, startling him out of his dark thoughts, “I understand – we understand,” she corrected herself at Ron’s gentle nudge, “But you can’t just destroy part of Hogwarts – especially after all the effort it took Headmistress McGonagall and the other’s to fix it.”

Harry looked at her mulishly, “Well maybe they shouldn’t have fixed it.”

Hermione gave a sharp gasp of surprise and her look of sympathy turned to one of annoyance. “ _Harry_.”

“Well it’s true,” Harry interrupted her, knowing she was building herself up to a proper lecture by the look on her face and forestalling her. “People died here – right where we’re standing.” Ron looked down with a look of something like alarm flashing across his face. “Well, okay, not right here, but that Ravenclaw third year died over by the fireplace trying to help that first year student escape.” He shuddered for a moment, “That first year has to look at that fireplace every day and remember that someone died for him. No kid should have to face that.”

“So you want to what? Just blow up every fireplace in Hogwarts?” Ron snorted, “Good luck with that mate.”

Harry shook his head, clenching his hands into fists before him. Why couldn’t they understand? Why did _no one_ understand? He wasn’t being unreasonable – he knew he wasn’t. A few of the other students had even come up to him and given him a list of places where they knew friends and family had been killed. Places they wanted to forget but couldn’t.

“I don’t want to just blow parts of Hogwarts up – I want to replace them.”

It was Hermione’s turn to try and reason with him again. She sighed heavily before saying, “Harry we’ve been over this – Headmistress McGonagall and the other Professors already restored Hogwarts to how it was before the war.”

Harry couldn’t stand it anymore.

He jumped out of his chair, his voice rising as he spoke, “That’s what I’m talking about! Why did they do that? Did they think we’d like it the same as it was before everything? Like we’d just go back to how we were before…before everything? Like we could just forget people died? Like we—” He trailed off. Not because Hermione and Ron were looking at him like he’d gone crazy, but because Dennis Creevy in the corner was crying.

He’d made Dennis cry.

Cursing himself Harry stumbled as he tried to escape from the Common Room, tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away from it all.

Damn it, why was nothing going right? Why had nothing gone right since the war?

As soon as they’d come back everything had just fallen apart and he had no idea how to fix it all. He thought he’d be helping when he joined the Restoration Effort, teaming up with his fellow students and the Professors to make Hogwarts as it had been.

But that had been wrong – he saw that now. He saw it every time a student skirted around a certain area on the floor, or averted their eyes away from a certain room, or avoided the Great Hall.

He knew that the students were thinner than they should be because they were missing meals – he also knew that the Houseelves did their best to make sure everyone was fed by leaving snacks everywhere. Hell he woke up every morning to find a fruit bowl by his head, but it wasn’t right and something had to change.

So Harry had come up with his current plan. He would use his magic to demolish the parts of Hogwarts that students found distressing and then he would replace it – with something new that bore no resemblance to what it had been before. His first attempt had been in the Great Hall that morning when he’d used Reducto at the Gryffindor table. He’d managed to break apart half the plates and cutlery before Headmistress McGonagall had called him to her office.

She’d heard his story, reprimanded him, told him that he was under no circumstances to destroy anymore of Hogwarts and told him to leave.

She’d looked at him in disappointment.

Harry had locked himself away in his room for hours after that until Hermione and Ron had coerced him out into the Common Room. Then he’d started making his list.

He still had it clenched in his hand, the sweat on his palm making it stick to his skin.

Backing himself away into a corner between two suits of armour Harry took out his list, unrolling it and trying to straighten out the wrinkles his hand had caused. He’d written it all out in his best handwriting and he felt absurdly proud as he looked over it.

At the top was written, _‘Harry Potter’s Plan to Renovate Hogwarts’_. Under that was a list, not just of specific places, like the classrooms which he’d put at the top, but also statues and portraits. He was still unsure about the portraits but he knew for a fact that some of them had been instrumental in the war and not all of them had been fighting for the Good so…they needed to go.

At the very top of the page were just three words: ‘Chamber of Secrets.’

He frowned as he looked at his own familiar scrawl. Underneath he’d written, ‘High priority – place of Dark magic. Why the hell is it still here?’

He still didn’t know the answer to that question. He’d asked McGonagall herself but she’d blown him off with vague mutterings about Old Magic and not upsetting the Balance.

Fuck the Balance. People didn’t balance – they needed a place to grieve that wouldn’t constantly draw on all their bad feelings and memories of the war. They needed…they needed…

They needed him.

With a sense of purpose filling him Harry rolled his parchment up again and tucked it safely away inside his cloak. He’d decided on his course long before that day. He’d known as soon as he’d crossed the threshold to the school that something was wrong with Hogwarts. Something just felt…off. He’d been there during the days when Hogwarts was mostly crumpled stones and he hadn’t felt even the slightest hint that something was wrong but as soon as he’d come back…

It was like having a hundred spiders crawling all over him. He went to bed staring at the ceiling wondering just what the hell was wrong with him. Now he knew though – it wasn’t him, it was everyone else that was wrong.

McGonagall was wrong to fix the school. Hermione was wrong to argue with him. Ron was wrong to side with Hermione. The teachers were wrong for not fighting with McGonagall when she said she was going to open the damned school again. The students were wrong for coming back.

Before he realised it he was almost running down the moving staircases, dodging the students still up and about, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

He was panting when he made it the second floor and had to stop to rest, putting his hand against the wall and trying to regain control over his breathing. He was just about to move out when he heard a noise.

He plastered himself against the wall, not sure why he was trying to hide, just knowing he had to. He knew that voice after all; it was almost as familiar to him as his own. That obnoxious drawl that had haunted him through six years of school and beyond.

Draco Malfoy.

Harry still wasn’t sure what he felt about the other boy now. He knew he shouldn’t think of him as a boy though, they were both men now after all. They’d survived a war and come out of it, if not completely unscathed, at least still intact which was more than some of the other survivors could boast.

Trying to remain as quiet as possible Harry stretched his neck out, peering around the corner of the crevice he’d wedged himself into.

Malfoy stood there, hunched over in the middle of the corridor with his arms wrapped around himself. Harry wasn’t sure what he was doing for a moment until he realised that Malfoy was shaking – and laughing.

It was a disturbing laugh, if only because no one was around to hear it except for Harry and Malfoy, Harry was certain, had no idea that he stood there.

Ragged blond hair fell into Malfoy’s eyes and Harry was surprised to notice how unkempt it looked. He would always remember Malfoy’s carefully slicked back hair. He and Ron had joked about it enough back in more innocent days. Now that hair was cut in jagged lines, as if someone had just one day decided to hack it away. Malfoy’s eyes were dark and sunken into his face and he carried that look - the same look he shared with half of the student body, the one that had seen death and lived through it, the one that spoke of sleepless nights and terrible nightmares. Harry knew all about the Look because he’d seen it on his own face every time he had the courage to look in a mirror.

Malfoy had stopped laughing now and was instead stamping his foot into the ground over and over. He ground his heel down and spat on the floor before abruptly spinning around and leaving, passing by Harry without a glance.

He was left alone in the darkening corridor.

Without even thinking he made his way over to the area Malfoy had been standing. With a slight grimace on his face he bent down, picking up what Malfoy had been stomping on with two fingers and bringing it up to his line of eyesight.

It was a note, written by a shaking hand the words spiked around the small scrap of paper. The message wasn’t eloquent but it didn’t need to be to get a words across, they were fairly clear.

‘Why did you return Malfoy? You should’ve been Kissed like the rest of those filthy Deatheaters!’

Snatching back his hand as though he’d been burnt by the parchment Harry watched as it fluttered back to the ground. He felt like grinding his foot into it too.

Pushing one hand into his hair Harry stared at the letter, a feeling something like despair bubbling up within him.

He’d never even thought about Malfoy.

And that thought confused him.

In all his years he’d never been able to forget Malfoy. He’d been one of those annoying constants in Harry’s life, always just… _there_ and sneering away with his pointy nose in the air and his posse of simpering Slytherins around him. Harry had become so used to Malfoy in his life that he wasn’t sure what he’d do if Malfoy wasn’t there.

So why had he forgotten him?

He’d been so focused on the suffering of the students…but Malfoy was suffering too wasn’t he? He was clearly being targeted by the other students, being made into a scapegoat. Why had no one thought about that?

It was just another reason to add to his ever growing list as to why the school should never have been reopened. That didn’t explain why Malfoy had accepted the invitation though. He hadn’t needed to come back, coming back as an Eighth Year had been optional. Some of them hadn’t come back – Harry knew that quite a lot of the Slytherins had turned their nose up at the offer and gone off to Durmstrang. Some had even decided to go out and get jobs – and been accepted under ‘special circumstances’.

So why had Malfoy come back?

It was a question that circled around his brain as he made his way slowly to the Chamber of Secrets. He crept into the girl’s bathroom, noting Moaning Myrtle’s absence with relief. He was still pondering the Malfoy Dilemma, becoming so distracted by it that he almost didn’t realise that the Chamber was open.

That bought him up short.

The sink was gone and the pipe was there in full display. Harry was instantly on full alert, grabbing his wand out of his pocket and dropping into a crouch as he aimed his wand in every dark corner.

No one came though. Harry half expected Ron to jump out and yell ‘Boo’ at him and after a few moments he began to feel very silly indeed.

Glad no one had seen his brief moment of paranoia he straightened his back but kept his wand in his hand. He wasn’t stupid after all.

He shuffled forwards, stopping when he was mere feet away the entrance and studied the area, looking for anything that might tell him just what the hell was going on. There was nothing though, nothing that stood out and yelled ‘Dark!’ As far as Harry could tell there was nothing amiss.

Except the Chamber of Secrets was open.

He dithered for a moment at the entrance, unsure whether to go back to the Common Room to fetch his friends. It would take a while but what if something was down there…

Scowling to himself Harry set his shoulders. He was bloody Harry Potter and he was not afraid of some dead snake. Gathering his courage Harry took a deep breath before throwing himself down the pipe.

The ride down was just as thrilling and terrifying as it had been when he’d been younger. Of course, he was older and taller now so the journey seemed a lot shorter and he landed, not on a hill of bones, but on a mattress.

Something was definitely not right.

Looking around warily Harry quickly scrambled off the mattress, dropping back into his crouch. His wand was already out and he quickly bit off a ‘Lumos’ aiming his wand all around him before pointing it forwards.

He felt almost disappointed when he encountered…well, nothing. The place actually looked like someone had tried their hardest to clean it. The bones were gone, the horrid smell of decay had been replaced by…He sniffed, was that _apple_?

Shaking his head in bewilderment Harry carried on his examination of the corridor. The pile of rubble had been removed – the rocks that had blocked his way back all those years ago had vanished.

Things were just getting weirder and weirder. He knew that Hermione and Ron had been down here but he seriously doubted they’d had time to do any spring cleaning.

Narrowing his eyes Harry continued onwards, fingers tightening around his wand as he finally made it to the Chamber itself.

He was – well, confused at what he saw.

There was another mattress on the floor with bed linen that had been neatly folded on top, along with a small desk and chair, a student’s trunk and beside that, also neatly folded, was a student’s uniform. A Slytherin, he realised when he saw the green tie on top.

So a Slytherin was – what? Having a sleepover in the Chamber of Secrets?

Harry felt like laughing at the absurdity of it all. The basilisk was right there…

He turned to look at it only to find it gone too. His feeling of unease steadily growing he walked over to the desk and started shuffling through the papers that had been placed on top of it. The name ‘ _Draco Malfoy_ ’ was written on each and every single one of them.

So Draco Malfoy was sleeping in the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry grimly looked down at the papers in his hand. That wasn’t right was it? Draco Malfoy was _living_ in the Chamber of Secrets.

Why though, was Harry’s thought, had Malfoy fled here of all places? He was just about to nose through the other papers when he suddenly heard a sound.

Spinning round on his heel he came face to face with the furious grey eyes of Draco Malfoy.

Gulping Harry gave him a wary smile. “…Hi?”

“What the hell are you doing here Potter?” Malfoy demanded of him angrily, wand out and pointing directly at Harry’s chest.

Harry made a big show of putting his wand back in his pocket, showing his palms to Malfoy as he raised his hands slowly.

“Look, I’ve put my wand away. I just wanted to, you know, talk.”

Malfoy gaped at him. “You want to _talk_? Whatever the hell for?”

“I want to know what’s going on here,” he gestured to the bed and the desk and the trunk. “I wan to know what’s going on with _you_.”

“Well, I don’t care for Share Time with Potter so you can just leave, now,” Malfoy replied, almost spitting the words in Harry’s face as he jabbed in his wand forwards. “Before I make you regret coming down here.”

Harry backed away slowly, hands still raised. “Okay, okay, I’m leaving,” he assured Malfoy, watching as that drawn face relaxed, just slightly. The wand stayed steadily on him though as he inched back towards the corridor.

It was only when Malfoy had become just a speck that Harry turned around again. He had so many questions and only the boy he was leaving behind could answer them.

Well, no matter. There was always tomorrow.

Grinning to himself Harry almost skipped back to his Common Room. He had maybe, just maybe, found another person to save.

And he couldn’t wait to get started.


	2. Malfoy’s Secret

Later that night Harry lay in bed thinking over his new plan.

He’d known as soon as he’d seen Malfoy in the second floor corridor that he had to do something for the other boy. The pain and _fear_ in his face had spoken to Harry’s sense of justice. No one should be that afraid anymore. Not of anything – especially other students.

He just didn’t know quite how to fix it all yet. He needed to get Malfoy out of the Chamber of Secrets – that at least was clear. No one should have to live in that dank place, not even Malfoy.

Frowning to himself Harry tried to remember the times he’d seen Malfoy in class that year. He’d been there – Harry was sure of it. He could just vaguely recall seeing that distinctive flash of blond hair out of the corner of his eye. So Malfoy had been attending his classes.

He just wasn’t returning to his Common Room afterwards – why?

The word gnawed at Harry until he finally gave up, turning over in his bed and punching the pillow beneath him. He’d get no answers tonight and he would be useless in the morning if he didn’t get any sleep soon.

He grinned to himself as he settled down to sleep. He needed his sleep – he had big plans for tomorrow after all.

\-----

Malfoy wasn’t at breakfast the next morning.

The thought brought some disappointment but Harry shrugged it off as he grabbed some bacon for himself. He hadn’t really expected Malfoy to be there after all. The other boy was probably still down in the Chamber. Harry wondered if the Houseelves knew he was down there – he hoped so. He hated the thought that Malfoy was down there slowly starving to death.

“Oi, mate,” Ron said, nudging him in the ribs. Harry gave him a sideways glare before pointedly shoveling his bacon into his mouth and chewing slowly.

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry’s antics, “Look, we just wanted to apologise, you know, for yesterday. We acted like right prats to you and that wasn’t right.”

Hermione leaned over the table, reaching out a hand to touch his. “We only want what’s best for you Harry,” she said earnestly, letting her hand drop when Harry continued frowning at them both. She sighed, “I just don’t think that this…this plan you have is going to make you happy.”

“It won’t,” Harry replied, enjoying their similar looks of bewilderment.

“Then why are you doing it? I mean, if you want a girl’s attention there are better ways than destroying the cutlery,” he tilted his head in Hermione’s direction, “Trust me, I know.”

Harry smirked at him, “Yeah you just leave them in a forest with another guy.”

Ron smacked him, mock glaring at him but it only lasted a moment before all three of them were laughing.

It felt good to laugh, like a weight that had been pulling him down had lifted, if only slightly. He knew his friends loved him – they showed it everyday just by putting up with his crap. He didn’t envy them sometimes having to deal with him – but they did and he’d always be grateful to them for that.

Smiling at the two of them fondly Harry let their conversation flow over him as he eyes scanned over the heads in the Great Hall.

It made his heart ache to see all the empty spaces. The ones that should been filled with those who had died, and the ones that belonged to those who couldn’t bear to look around and not see them. Once more Harry was hit with a feeling wrongness and he tilted his head up to look at the ceiling.

Clouds roiled above him and he saw the occasional flash of lightning but inside the Great Hall no sound could be heard of the storm outside. It was disconcerting and he immediately looked down, putting down his knife and fork and standing up from the table.

“Just going to get some air,” he told his friends as he hurried away, ignoring their calls after him.

He slipped through the door and stopped just outside, taking in deep breaths and trying to get his emotions under control. He knew his hands were shaking so he stuffed them into his pockets out of sight. No one could know how close Harry Potter had come to losing control of his magic again.

It was happening more frequently recently, he’d notice something about the castle was off and his magic would rise within him as if to fight it away. It had scared him to begin with but as long as he could get some distance the feeling would fall away.

He’d been confused last night when his magic hadn’t reared its ugly head. It was only this morning that he’d realised he’d already been so edge last night in the Chamber of Secrets, his magic had been fully under his control for the first time since the war had ended. He’d given it a purpose – to protect him and hunt out enemies – and it had done so. He’d compared it to a sleepy kitten that night, all satisfied and curled up inside him purring.

The war was over though – he didn’t need his magic to defend him anymore.

He wondered if that was why he was so set on changing Hogwarts. After all, what better exercise could his magic ask for than tearing down a castle filled with ancient magic?

Harry laughed to himself weakly as he straightened up, giving a brief look to his hands to confirm that, yes, they had stopped shaking.

Grabbing his book bag from where he’d dropped it on the floor Harry slung it onto his shoulder – not realising that someone had been walking up behind him.

“Ow!” A voice cried behind him.

Harry spun around, an apology ready on his lips until he saw who the person was – Draco Malfoy.

“Malfoy!” He called out, giving a brief thought to why his voice should sound so happy when Malfoy scowled at him, rubbing at his reddened nose.

“Watch where your bloody well going Potter,” Malfoy said, trying to skirt around him. He wasn’t quick enough for Harry’s Seeker reflexes though and he grabbed the back of Malfoy’s robes, pulling the other boy up short.

Malfoy squawked as he fell backwards. Harry quickly reached out to steady him but Malfoy pushed him off, brushing down his clock as though Harry had dirtied him with his touch. When he’d finished he sneered at Harry.

“Keep your hands to yourself Potter – you should know that you can’t afford this.”

“Huh?” Harry replied, feeling particularly slow when Malfoy rolled his eyes at him.

“Oh for—I don’t go for boys Potter so you’d be better off throwing yourself at someone who cares. Now, get out of the way so I can go to class.” He narrowed his eyes at Harry’s shocked expression, his smirk growing as he continued, “And if you molest me again I will report you to the Headmistress.” His face had flickered on the last word but the smirk was carefully in place when he finally brushed past Harry hard enough to send Harry into the wall behind him.

Harry just stared after Malfoy’s back, feeling like he’d been run over with the Weasley’s flying car.

What the hell had just happened?

He’d only meant to ask how Malfoy knew about the Chamber of Secrets; he hadn’t been trying to, to proposition him or anything. Why would Malfoy even think that?

“Hey Harry, you okay?” A voice said at his shoulder, making Harry start.

He turned to see Neville’s kindly face giving him a worried look but he smiled in reply, “It’s okay, I’m fine Neville,” he said, turning his smile up a notch when Neville continued to give him that same concerned gaze.

“Honestly! I’ve even promised not to damage anymore of the crockery.” Neville laughed at that and Harry gave a sigh of relief, knowing he’d just narrowly escaped an interrogation by his friend. Neville meant well but he was the same as Hermione and Ron – they loved him but they didn’t _understand_. They couldn’t see the things he could. They hadn’t died and come back, they didn’t see the accusing stares of the students when they passed him, didn’t hear the whispers.

 _“Why only you? Why did only you get to come back?”_ They’d look ashamed as soon as they said it but Harry would always carry those words around with him. He’d learnt to accept their accusations – they were only truth after all.

Blimey but he was a depressing bloke to be around with nowadays.

Neville was talking about their new project in Herbology though and hadn’t noticed the dip in Harry’s mood. Shaking himself roughly Harry made an effort to listen to his friend as they left the castle and made their way to Professor Sprout’s greenhouses.

“I mean, it’s just so exciting to be able to choose our own plants for a change – don’t you think Harry? I’ve already chosen mine – I’m going to be studying aconite.”

“Uhr, what’s aconite?” Harry asked, watching as Neville’s face lit up. He started listing all the proprieties of aconite – also known as monkshood or wolfsbane – and Harry was free to let his thoughts wander as he and Neville walked.

He’d finally settled on a course of action when he and Neville reached Greenhouse Seven. Settling down into their seats they waited for the rest of the students. All the Eighth Years shared the same classes – there just weren’t enough of them left to split the classes by House.

Harry had thought at the beginning of the year that maybe this would help everyone to join together and forget about House rivalries but it had done the exact opposite – if anything the hostility towards other Houses was at an all time high. It gave him a headache.

The four Hufflepuffs sat in the corner gossiping among themselves, the Ravenclaws in another corner casting surreptitious glances at the rest of them, the two Slytherins remaining sat…Wait a minute.

There were two Slytherins there – Goyle and another Slytherin boy sat in their designated corner - Harry thought his name was Zabini but he couldn’t be sure – and he definitely was not Draco Malfoy.

So where the hell was Malfoy? For all intents and purposes he’d left long before Harry and Neville so he should have been sitting…oh. _Oh_. Well, that certainly explained some things.

Malfoy sat on his own in a darkened corner of the greenhouse, almost disappearing into the shadows around him. If it weren’t for his hair Harry might have missed him entirely – he probably would have if he hadn’t been actively looking for the other boy. Was this what Malfoy did in all their other classes? Just…fade into the background?

The idea clashed in Harry’s head. It made no sense, Malfoy was just not the kind of person to stay out of the spotlight – he reveled in attention. Yet here he was was trying to disappear from sight.

Just another thing wrong with Hogwarts that Harry would have to put right. Not that he didn't enjoy the silence – he’d almost forgotten about the fights Ron and Malfoy would fall into all the time but those fights had been a sign of happier times almost. Hogwarts needed them back if it was ever to go back to normal.

And Harry couldn’t stand the thought of Malfoy being like he was. He wasn’t dead – he wasn’t a ghost, the least the git could do was show some sign of life.

Harry almost slipped off his stool to go prod the git and see if he was still alive but Professor Sprout chose that moment to enter the greenhouse, the rest of the students following close behind her. Hermione and Ron immediately went to sit next to him but their questions about his disappearance were halted when Sprout began talking.

Harry would never quite get used to how Sprout looked now – she’d been one of those survivors who came away from the battle just barely clinging to life. She’d lost a leg to a blasting curse and her hair was gone, burnt away from another spell. She wore a hat at all times now – she had before but without those grey wires peaking under everything just looked…off. She leaned heavily on her crutch as she moved to the head of the tables set out for them.

Her smile was still the same though and Harry found himself grinning back when she began to talk, “So! It’s time for your final project to begin at last! Does everyone know what they will be doing?”

A chorus of nods from the students and she continued, “Well, there may have to be some little amendments made to your ideas. For one – it’s been decided that you can choose a partner. That is to say, it is now compulsory for you all to have partners.” Hermione looked like she was going to explode. Professor Sprout held her hands up in response to the sudden barrage of questions from the students. “I know, I know it’s all fairly last minute but you’re both going to have to show some flexibility about the plant you’ve chosen – I know some of you have already done plenty of research,” a pointed look to Hermione and Neville, “And I know some of you don’t even have an idea of what to write about yet,” this time a look towards Harry and Ron. Harry grimaced, hoping no one had noticed. He’d hoped to keep his lack of research quiet – he’d been meaning to do it but it had just…slipped underneath all his other plans.

He’d had a lot other things on his mind recently. Schoolwork had kind of taken a backseat to it all. Hermione would've chewed him out if she'd known.

Ron grinned at him conspiratorially which Harry studiously ignored, listening as Sprout explained that at least they could choose who they wanted to partnered with and that this was not an excuse to slack off just because two people would be working on it instead of one.

Harry tuned her out, his eyes turning to Malfoy’s hunched figure. He could feel an idea forming in his head…

As soon as Sprout told them to go sit next to their partner Harry had bolted off his stool. With an apologetic glance to Neville he made it over to that darkened area and dropped his books rather unceremoniously next to Malfoy’s as he sat next to him.

“What the hell are you doing Potter?” Malfoy hissed next to him. If possible Harry thought he might actually be trying to hunch over even further. Did he have a height complex or something?

Harry shrugged and settled himself into his new work space  opening his textbook and pulling out some parchment. Malfoy’s hand slapped down on top of his book when he tried to pull it towards himself.

“I’ll ask again Potter and this time you will be polite enough to _respond,_ ” the words were said with enough ire that Harry nodded, letting go of his book reluctantly and turning to Malfoy. “What the hell are you _thinking_ sitting next to me?”

“Well, I thought it’d be kind of hard to partner up if I was sat all the way over there,” Harry replied, gesturing to his previous seat where some Ravenclaw girl now sat gaping at him. In fact, Harry saw as he glanced around the room, everyone was staring at them. Even Sprout although she was trying to cover it up by bustling about with the plants in front of her. Ron looked shell-shocked.

Harry snickered to himself; well he’d wanted to change Hogwarts hadn’t he? Maybe the best way to start was by waking everyone up to all the stuff just under their noses.

Like Malfoy who was now glaring at him silently.

He cleared his throat, “Look, I heard you were good at Herbology…”

“Where did you hear that?” Malfoy asked him suspiciously.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Alright, blimey, I didn’t hear it anywhere. I just thought that you looked lonely over here by yourself – and I don’t think you’re going to get any other offers to partner up with you so unless you want to fail you’ll have to deal with it.”

His words seemed to fall almost like physical blows as Malfoy huddled even further into himself, his hands clenching and un-clenching in front of him. Harry looked at him in concern before turning to the rest of the class.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” He asked them curtly; watching in wry amusement as everyone suddenly busied themselves with getting books and quills out and hurriedly making conversation with the person next to them. Good. Now he could focus on Malfoy.

One thing at a time, he cautioned himself. Just – treat him like a injured animal. One with lots of teeth. And pretty grey eyes.

Ignoring that last thought for the idiocy it was Harry started scribbling on his parchment before pushing it towards Malfoy and jabbing his hand at it. He saw Malfoy look down, snort to himself before grabbing his quill and writing back.

Harry felt a thrill of success when the parchment was pushed back towards him.

Underneath his messy, _‘Sorry for the fuss’_ Malfoy had written – very neatly Harry noticed with a roll of his eyes – _‘Are you actually apologising to me Potter?’_

Harry grinned to himself as he wrote back. He didn’t have to wait long for Malfoy to respond. There were his original words: _‘Yeah, don’t get used to it.’_ Followed up by Malfoy’s: _‘As long as you don’t try to get in my pants again I guess I can work with you. Just try to keep your hormones under control.’_

Harry could feel himself blushing to the roots of his hair as he hastily grabbed the parchment and started scrunching it into a small ball before anyone could see it.

He stuffed it into his bag; face still flaming and looked up to see Malfoy smirking at him.

It was almost worth the embarrassment to see that expression back on Malfoy’s face.

Almost.


End file.
